


Love Me Like You Do

by wanheda_two_heda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy Has Feelings, Clarke is just tired of getting her heart broken, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Finn is a cheating asshole, Slow Burn, more like enemies to lovers to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-05 07:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10301501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: Clarke has everything she could hope for, rocky relationship with her mother aside, so the last thing she expects to see is another woman at her boyfriend's door first thing in the morning. And if her roommate's infuriating brother is the one to take her mind off of it, Clarke just can't find it in herself to complain.**Rating will likely go up as more chapters are posted**





	1. Rogue Eggplants

**Author's Note:**

> Title from that one song I can't remember right now but used anyway because I suck at titles. I wasn't going to do multi-chaptered fics, but somehow you're about to read a multi-chapter slow burn. Enjoy!

Clarke likes to think that everything in her life is going right. She’s finally finished her liberal arts degree – and if she still hasn’t talked to her mother yet, at least her friends don’t bring it up –, she lives in a nice part of town with her best friend from college – and Octavia might have friends over at obnoxious hours, but Clarke is getting used to it and growing to love her roommate’s close knit group – and she has a boyfriend that she’s in love with. So really, what more could she ask for? Things might not exactly be perfect, but they’re pretty close.

 She’s thinking about an interview for an assistant curator position she applied for that she has in three days, and her head spinning at all the possibilities that are in front of her now that college is over. The room is dark, and she reaches over to the bedside table to check the time on her phone. She suppresses a groan when she sees that it’s almost half past two in the morning, and her brain has yet to shut off.

 The arm thrown haphazardly over her waist tightens, pulling her snuggly into Finn’s side. He presses a sleepy kiss to her head.

 “Sleep, Clarke,” he mumbles and goes right back to snoring.

 She sighs and turns onto her side to better fit against Finn. He’s all awkward angles, and she can never get quite get all the way comfortable with him. Still, she rests her head on his shoulder, wraps her arm around him, and hopes that his steady breathing will lull her to sleep.

 She’s been dating Finn for six months now, though the whole sleeping next to him at night is new. Up until recently, he always had one reason or another to go home after a date. She’d never thought much of it, just figured that he must be a rather private person. She can’t complain about the change, though. She finds sleeping next to another person to be relaxing, and it’s a change from her hectic daily life. They’d met at a coffee shop just off of campus while she’d been studying for her last set of finals. Finn had recently transferred, and because not all of his credits were compatible, he’d had to add one more semester to his senior year to be able to get his degree. They’d clicked instantly, and Clarke had introduced him to Octavia and Octavia’s – their – friends. They’d all seemed rather weary of him, afraid to let him all the way in, but Clarke just chalked it up to her still being new to the group.

 Finn starts to stir, and Clarke smiles fondly into the darkness as she recognizes the familiar signs of his dreaming. His mumbling is also familiar. Mostly, it’s incoherent, but she does get the occasional snippet of intelligible ramblings that she relays to him in the morning. He never remembers them. Her favorite, thus far, had been one night when she’d shot awake to Finn yelling, “Police! Call the police! The eggplants are fighting back!” It had been hard not to wake him up with her loud burst of laughter. He’d gone back to mumbling after, and she never did figure out if the police had managed to stop the rogue eggplants.

 His mumbling becomes more agitated, and Clarke hears a distinct “no.”

 He settles down, and Clarke is finally almost asleep when he starts talking again.

 “No, please don’t go. I love you.”

 Clarke smiles.

 “Raven, you can’t leave. I still love you.”

  _Raven_? Clarke’s insides turn to ice. She’s never heard Finn talk about any exes – she knows that she’s obviously not his first girlfriend – and he’s never mentioned anyone named Raven. It’s the first Clarke is hearing of the name.

 “No,” Finn whines almost inaudibly.

 She pulls away from him and turns onto her side away from him. Her chest feels hollow, because even if he’s just sleep-talking, Finn sounds so broken at the prospect of this Raven leaving him. He’s never sounded like that when talking to her.

 Clarke falls asleep with a sinking feeling in her chest, and when she wakes up early the next morning, Finn is on his side of the bed, sleeping on his side, his back to her. She takes in his even breathing and his soft snoring, and she knows that he’s still asleep.

 She slides out of bed and pads quietly into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. She’s wearing one of his t-shirts and her hair is a mess. When she opens the fridge to take out the coffee grounds, she sees Finn’s cell phone sitting on the counter next to it. She’s never touched his phone before. She’s never had a reason to, so the thought never crossed her mind, and Finn’s never volunteered it. He usually keeps it in his pocket at all times. He must have forgotten it there when he’d put their leftovers in the fridge when they got home last night.

She hesitates for a minute, but decides that she doesn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend. It was a dream. Finn was just talking in his sleep. There was nothing to it. She decides to push Raven, whoever she is, to the back of her mind and move on. After she gets coffee going, she goes to the bathroom to try to tame her hair and then brush her teeth. 

Finn’s phone is vibrating with a text message when she comes back to the kitchen, and she wants to ignore it, but then a second message comes in and curiosity gets the better of her. She walks over to the counter and what she sees makes her knees weak. She takes the phone and sit down at the dining table.

 

**Raven Reyes (3) missed calls**

**Raven:** Finn, answer your damn phone

 **Raven:** I swear to god, if you don’t answer your phone, I’m going to chop your balls off

 

Clarke has to laugh at the second text even though she’s swallowing around a lump in her throat.

 

 **Raven:** FINN! I’ve been trying to call you all night!

 

Then there are the two messages that must have come in while she was in the bathroom.

 

 **Raven:** Hey, you never called me back last night. I’m getting worried.

 **Raven:** Please tell me that you’re okay

 

 She puts the phone face down on the table and buries her head in her hands. She hears Finn start to stir in the bedroom, so she makes a beeline for the bathroom, locking herself in before she hears him get up. She paces back and forth across the small room, wracking her hands through her hair and trying not to cry.

 She tries to reason that nothing in the texts indicated that they were together, but the excuse sounds false to even her own ears. She wishes she wouldn’t have left her phone in the kitchen, wishes should could text Octavia, or even Wells, for advice. She feels alone and betrayed, and she doesn’t know what to do.

 Finn knocks on the bathroom door. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she calls back, a little shaky. “Fine. Just give me a minute.” 

She hears him walk away, and she lowers the toilet cover to sit down. She feels a sob shake her entire body, but she refuses to cry. She won’t cry here, not in Finn’s bathroom, especially not is he’s cheating on her. 

As she’s gathering up the courage, she hears a pounding on Finn’s front door, and Finn calls out to whoever is there to wait a second. She hears his footsteps as he walks to the front door, and then a hushed conversation. Lifting her chin high, she exits the bathroom and walks to the foyer.

The woman at the door is beautiful. She has caramel skin and dark brown hair. She’s skinny, but Clarke sees how muscular she really is when she steps forward to wrap her arms around Finn’s neck, her eyes closed as she buries her face against his shoulder. Clarke’s mouth hangs open, but she can’t make a sound. She watches as the woman looks at Finn, love written across her face, and then leans forward to kiss him.

“Finn?” Clarke manages, but it comes out as a squeak.

The woman pulls back and looks at Clarke, taking in her bedraggled appearance and lack of anything to cover her legs. If looks could kill, Clarke would be dead.

“Excuse me?” the woman asks, arching a perfect eyebrow. Even her voice sounds powerful. “Who the fuck are you?”

Finn looks between the two women, his mouth agape.

“Finn?” Clarke asks again, voice clearer this time. He continues to look between them, and Clarke doesn’t need any clarification. “I heard you say her name in your sleep last night. Want to explain, or should I just go?”

“I think you need to leave,” the girl says.

“No, Raven, wait. Clarke, I can explain,” Finn says, still as panicked.

“Explain to her?” Raven nearly shrieks. “How about you explain to me?”

“I’m gonna go,” Clarke says, turning on her heel to get her clothes out of Finn’s room, throwing her jeans on quickly and grabbing her phone and her purse from the kitchen on the way out. She can’t meet Raven’s eyes when she says sorry as she leaves. 

She makes it a block before she collapses onto a bus shelter bench and starts crying. She fishes her phone out of her purse and dials Octavia’s number. The younger girl answers on the third ring.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” she asks in a cheery voice.

Clarke tries to explain what just happened, but she can hardly understand it herself, so putting it into words is impossible. She just cries, loudly, and she’d be embarrassed if there was anyone around, but the street is relatively quiet.

“Clarke? What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?” Octavia sounds panicked.

“It’s okay,” Clarke manages around a shaky breath. “I’m okay. I just – I just wanted to – Fuck, O, how does this keep happening to me?”

“What’s wrong, babe? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“Finn – ” her voice breaks.

“Did he hurt you? I will bash his fucking stupid face in if he laid a hand on you.”

“There’s – there’s another – Fuck, Octavia, she’s beautiful,” Clarke sobs.

“Probably not as beautiful as you,” her friend answers. “I have class until three, but I can come home if you need me to.”

Clarke steadies her breathing. “No. No, go to class. I’ll be okay.” 

“Shit, I forgot to text you. Bell came down late last night. He wanted to surprise me. He’s staying for the rest of the week. I can text him and tell him to get out if you want the place to yourself.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not his fault that Finn’s an asshat.”

Truth be told, learning that Octavia’s brother had come to visit brightened Clarke’s mood. She’d heard so much about Bellamy, but had never met him. By Octavia’s description, the older man is thoughtful and caring, and heaven knows Clarke isn’t in the mood to be around any more jerks today.

“Okay, well, I’ll tell him to leave you alone at least.”

“Girls’ night, tonight?” Clarke asks, wiping her eyes and getting up to finish the short walk back to their apartment.

“I’ll pick up that expensive wine you like so much on my way home.”

“And ice cream?”

“Of course. I love you, girl. Keep your head up. Fuck him.”

“Thanks, O.”

* * *

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	2. Please Stop The Whale Immitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke just wants to wallow in her heartbreak alone in her apartment, but Octavia's brother has other plans, and things between Bellamy and Clarke might just not get off to the best start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 100% uncorrected, and I've had a terrible day, and I'm really tired, so this is the best I could do. I originally planned this chapter to be about 3 times longer, so I guess I'll have to post it as a separate chapter tomorrow. For now, I hope 1k words isn't too bad.

The walk back to her apartment is uneventful. She comes across woman walking a Chihuahua in a tiny pink sweater, and it’s almost enough to make her smile, but there the woman looks Clarke up and down and makes a sound of disapproval and sticks her nose higher in the air, obviously not pleased with what she sees. Clarke has a half a mind to tell the woman to mind her own business and walk her pretentious dog elsewhere, but she can’t summon up the energy to care.

She takes the elevator up to her floor and tries not to cry until she’s shut the door. Once inside, she lets herself slide down to the floor, her back to the door, and finally think about the scene she’d witnessed earlier. She can’t even figure out if Finn was cheating on her or with her. She doesn’t know which would be worse. She hates the thought that she could have gotten in the way of someone else’s relationship, but at the same time, her heart aches for the relationship that she just lost. Last night, she’d fallen asleep thinking she had everything, and now she just lost the best thing she had going for her. She’d been in love with Finn. She still is. And she just can’t understand how he could betray her trust like that.

She hears footsteps coming down the hall, and it’s only then that she remembers that Octavia’s brother is visiting. She hurries to wipe the backs of her hands over her eyes and dry the tears. She knows that she still has bed head and that her eyes are probably bloodshot and puffy from the crying, but she wants to look at least somewhat presentable for when she meets Bellamy. She’d like it if her roommate’s family approved of her. A voice in the back of her mind says that it’s because her own mother never approved of Clarke’s choices that she’s so eager to make a good impression, but she quiets that voice, and it disappears as quickly as it came.

She hears his voice before she even sees his face. It’s deep, and gruff, and, frankly, everything that Finn’s isn’t.

“I get that spoiled rich girls aren’t used to the concept of sharing a living space, but it is hardly eleven in the morning, so if you could keep your wailing to a minimum, that would be great,” Bellamy says.

Clarke feels her jaw drop, completely taken aback not only by the tone that he’s using, but by the brazenly disrespectful way he chooses to talk to her in her own home. She closes her mouth just as he comes into view.

Clarke might be in the middle of one of the most painful heartbreaks she’s ever felt, but that doesn’t stop her from appreciating the man in front of her. He’s tall, almost half a foot taller than her, and where Octavia’s hair is pin straight, his is in a mop of curls sitting in disarray on top of his head. He has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that spread across his cheeks. His shoulders are broad, arms muscular, and she can only imagine what the rest of him must look like under his bulky sweater and track pants. He yawns widely, and that’s when Clarke comes back to the present, totally not focusing on the scar above his upper lip, and remembers the comment he’d just made.

“Excuse me?” she asks, her eyebrows scrunching together.

“You heard me, Princess. Some of us didn’t get to bed until late last night, so if you could just keep you whale imitations to a minimum, I would really like to get back to sleep.”

“Whale imitations? Who the hell do you think you are?” she asks, channeling all of her anger at Finn into this outlet that happened to land straight into the palm of her hand.

“Bellamy Blake,” he says with a cocky grin, and he has the nerve to hold his hand out for her to shake.

“You know exactly that that is _not_ what I was asking,” Clarke says, slapping his hand away. “You realize that you’re in my apartment, right?”

“I’m in O’s apartment, actually.”

“O’s apartment that she shares with me, so when she’s not home, it’s my apartment. If you have a problem with the noise level, might I kindly suggest the motel down the road?” she says with a haughty tone.

Bellamy pitches his voice high and nasally when he answers her. “Might I suggest that you consider that you’re not the only person on the planet?”

“You’re unbelievable! How is Octavia even related to you?”

“Well, Princess, when a mommy loves a daddy very much – ”

Clarke lets out a loud groan, throwing her hands into the air. “Listen, buddy, it’s been a rough morning, so you can either accept the fact that you’re a _guest_ here and go back to O’s room, shut the door, turn some music on, or whatever, or you can go take a hike,” Clarke snaps, not about to take sass from someone in her own home, not after her already rocky start to the day.

“Jeez, who pissed in your Corn Flakes this morning?” Bellamy says, holding his hands up defensively.

“None of your fucking business, but you’re certainly not helping the situation.”

“Clearly there’s something wrong, or you’re just plain psycho, but my sister says you’re a decent person, so I’m gonna walk away and give you a second chance at a first impression when your panties aren’t in such a twist.”

Clarke’s jaw falls open for the second time in the less than ten minutes she’s known Bellamy Blake. “What?” she nearly yells. He just laughs smugly.

Bellamy turns to walk back down the hall, but stops a few feet away, turning to look over his shoulder. “Can I just say, Princess, that maybe you wouldn’t be this uptight if you just got laid?”

Clarke doesn’t even think before she bends down to grab the nearest thing – one of Octavia’s shoes off the shoe rack beside her – and hurling it at his head. It missed by more than a yard. He throws his head back and laughs. She crosses her arms and wants to call after him that he’s a jerk, but she doesn’t want to sink to his level of pettiness. The shoe throwing was enough.

She toes off her own shoes, and it’s then that she notices that she left before changing out of Finn’s t-shirt. She rips it over her head so fast, you’d swear the contact made her skin burn. She’s almost down the hall to her own room, when, from Octavia’s, she hears loud rock music start. She doesn’t know how he gets enough bass going for the walls to shake considering his sister doesn’t even have a sound system, but he does. She slams her door loudly and swears she hears him laugh. She flings herself face down onto her bed and throws her pillow over her head, pulling it tightly over her ears.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What's she doing?"  
> "Being Clarke"
> 
> Comments and kudos are life!


	3. Apparently I Was A Jackass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia gets Bellamy to back off, Clarke tries to wash Finn away, and her girls night with Octavia gets interrupted before it even starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you not liking the Finn/Clarke stuff, it's almost over. I promise. Please let me know what you think!

**Clarke:** Your brother is the most obnoxious person I have ever met!

 **Octavia:** Of course he is. What did he do?  
  
**Clarke:** What didn’t he do??

 **Clarke:** He said my crying sounded like whale noises

 **Clarke:** And said that obviously idk how to he quiet because I’m a spoiled rich brat (wtf did you say about me??)

 **Clarke:** And I told him to play music or something if he wasn’t happy about it, and he’s got the loudest, fucking stupidest music playing

 **Clarke:** It’s been an hour and a half

 **Clarke:** Make it stop before I shoot myself. Or him. Or him and then myself.

 **Octavia:** Oh ffs. Idk what crawled up his ass. he gets like this sometimes and it drives me NUTS! I can’t believe he fucking tried it with you

 **Octavia:** I told him about your mom and stuff, but I swear I never said anything that made you sound like a spoiled rich brat

 **Octavia:** You know I love you. I’ll tell him to not act like an asshole or find somewhere else to stay

 

It takes less than thirty seconds for the music to shut off. Clarke should have texted Octavia earlier. She pulls the pillow off of her head and gathers her favorite comfy sweat pants out of her dresser. She needs to shower, to wash away last night and the memory of this morning. Maybe she’ll feel better when Finn’s touch isn’t still lingering on her skin. She hesitates with her hand on her doorknob. She really doesn’t want to run into Bellamy again. One encounter with him was enough. She wants to believe Octavia’s description of the sweet, caring, loving older brother she has, but she can’t consolidated with the rude, gruff man she met in her apartment.

Before she can decide to suck it up and just make a run for the bathroom, she hears Octavia’s bedroom door open. She listens as Bellamy shuffles down the hall and hears him put on his shoes before the front door slams shut. Everything is silent after that. She opens her door slowly, peering out into the hallway. She can’t believe that she’s resorting to sneaking around in her own home, but Bellamy isn’t anywhere to be seen, and she can’t hear anything but the sound of her quiet breathing, so she assumes that he’s gone.

Clarke doesn’t know how long she stays in the shower for, but she lets the water run hotter than usual, takes her time shampooing her hair, rinsing it and then doing it a second time, just to make sure that nothing lingers. She scrubs her body until her skin is red and stinging. She wishes that she could erase every trace of Finn, that she could have a body that he’s never touched, and it’s while she’s scrubbing furiously at her skin that she finally breaks. She sits on the shower floor, lets the water fall over her, run down her face in rivulets, mix with her tears as she cries. Alone, without the fear of Bellamy running into her, she lets herself revisit the encounter in Finn’s foyer. The way the woman – Raven – had looked at him, hugged him, kissed him, made it obvious that she wasn’t new to Finn. Not new in the way that Clarke had been. Clarke was the _other woman_. Finn wasn’t cheating on her. He was cheating with her. Clarke hugged her knees to her chest and sat until the tears ran out and the water ran cold.

Dressed with her hair pulled up into a messy bun, she ventures out into the rest of her apartment.

“Hello?” she calls.

There’s no answer, no shuffling feet, nothing. Her question is met with silence. So Bellamy isn’t back, then. She looks at the clock on the stove and her stomach rumbles. What with the walk home, hiding from Bellamy, and then her shower, it was now almost two o’clock and she hadn’t eaten anything since last night’s dinner with Finn. She opens the cabinet and takes out a box of instant macaroni and cheese, really not wanting to bother with anything more complicated. She checks her phone as the water boils, and finds a barrage of texts from Octavia.

 

 **Octavia:** Did he smarten up?

 **Octavia:** He better have. I told him you were having a rough day.

 **Octavia:** OMG!!!

 **Octavia:** You know the hot personal trainer at the gym?? He just asked me out

 **Octavia:** Holy shit holy shit holy shit

 **Octavia:** Clarke!!! Text me back!! What do I say??

 **Octavia:** You took too long. I said yes.

 **Octavia:** He wants to take me to dinner tonight. Is that okay?

 **Octavia:** I told him I’d text him. I want to be there for you

 **Clarke:** Go. Seriously. Just because my love life sucks doesn’t mean yours has to

 

Clarke dumps the box of noodles into the now boiling water and stirs. Her phone rings, and O’s picture comes up on the screen. She props it against her shoulder to finish making lunch.

“Hello?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just come home after class?” Octavia asks, jumping right to the point.

“No, go. Have fun. I’m sure that I can put up with your brother for a couple extra hours.”

The younger girl shrieks, and Clarke pulls the phone away from her ear. “You’re the best!”

“I know I am. Do you need to come home and change or anything?”

“No, I should be fine. I showered at the gym, and my clothes look like I actually tried, today.”

“Okay. I wanna hear all about it when you get home!”

“Of course! Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Clarke says, but her roommate has already hung up.

* * *

 She’s just about done cleaning the kitchen when she hears the front door open.

“O?” she calls, thinking that maybe Octavia decided to come change in between classes after all.

She gets no response, but the heavy footsteps that come towards the kitchen sound nothing like Octavia’s light ones. Bellamy comes into the kitchen, and Clarke takes in his appearance. His hair is still disheveled, and she wonders if he ever does anything to try to tame it. She hopes not; it makes him look boyish and sweet. As it is, one curl hangs just above his eye, and she has to resist the urge to brush it away. He’s wearing light jeans and a black leather jacket, but that’s not what catches her attention; it’s what he’s holding in his hand.

His free hand goes to the back of his neck, a nervous tic that he shares with his sister, Clarke thinks, as he walks up to her and puts the bottle of wine – her favorite – down on the counter beside her.

“Apparently, I was a jackass this morning. Uh, sorry your feelings got hurt, Princess,” ad the nickname sounds almost like a sneer. He won’t meet her eyes as he attempts what Clarke thinks is the worse excuse for an apology.

She makes a noise that borders on disdain and raises her nose higher in the air as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Is that it?” she asks, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes falter on their way to meet hers.

“That about sums it up, yeah. Anyway, I’m going for a run,” he says and marches out of the room.

“Asshole,” Clarke mutters under her breath. One bottle of wine, no matter how much she likes it, is not going to be enough for Bellamy to redeem himself.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating may or may not go up in the next chapter, so if that's not your thing, you might want to skip over it.
> 
> If I get a good response, I might already have the next chapter ready to go for later tonight ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos are life!


	4. Can We Talk?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn shows up wanting to explain, but all Clarke really wants is a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changes from M to E

Clarke wraps the bottle of wine Bellamy left her in a wet paper towel and places it in the freezer, hoping to cool it down quickly and then grabs her laptop from her room and hooks it up to the TV in the living room. She logs into her Netflix account and queues up a list of Law & Order episodes to watch, because if she’s going to suffer through heartbreak, she’s going to do it while watching Nick Amaro pine after Amanda Rawlins.

Bellamy must leave while she’s in her room, because when she walks back to the kitchen to grab the wine and a corkscrew, the apartment is silent. She pours herself a glass, and doesn’t pay attention to how fast she’s drinking it, because by the time the intro to her first episode is done, she goes to take a sip and finds her glass empty. She pours herself another one, which goes down just as fast. It’s easy to forget about Finn when she’s buzzing so pleasantly.

* * *

 

By the time Bellamy comes home, she’s ditched her glass, opting to drink straight from the bottle, and her second episode is ending. She downs the rest of the wine in one large gulp, and lets the bottle fall with a soft thud onto the black rug next to the couch. Bellamy looks at her as he passes and gives her a look that she can’t quite figure out. He smirks and huffs out a laugh.

“Fuck you, Bellamy. Don’t judge me,” she calls out. If he hears her, he doesn’t show any indication of it.

She hears the door to Octavia’s room shut, and she’s just about to skip the fifteen-second countdown to start a new episode when someone knocks on her door. She groans in complaint, and lets the time run out, not bothering to pause the new episode as she rolls lazily off the couch. She walks to the door, proud that she only sways once or twice, and opens it.

Finn stands in her doorway with the audacity to look sheepish. He looks down, and his hair falls over his eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“About what? About Raven? Or how you used me to cheat on her?” Clarke asks. In her slightly intoxicated state, she does not have the patience to deal with his lies.

“Clarke, it’s not what you think.”

“Really? _It’s not what I think_? I think that you’re old enough to know that sleeping with two people at once and not telling either of them, is not the smartest idea.”

“That’s not what happened! Please, just let me explain,” he says, pushing past her into her apartment.

“Get out, Finn. I did not say you could come in.”

“Baby, please.”

“No! And don't call me that. You don’t get to just walk in here like you own the place. I said get out. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses!”

“Just – ”

Clarke could guess where his sentence was going to go, but she never did hear what he wanted to say.

“Clarke? Is there a problem here?” asks a gruff voice from behind her.

Bellamy isn’t sarcastic or judging anymore. He actually sounds _worried_. He comes to stand at her elbow, giving her the space to deal with her own confrontation, but reminding her with his presence that he can help if she needs it. Finn looks him up and down, unsure of whether or not to glare at the man who is a physical force to be reckoned with in every way.

“Clarke?” Finn sputters, taking a few steps back. For the first time since meeting him, Clarke is glad for Bellamy’s presence, if only to enjoy the look on Finn’s face. She smirks at him, and he screws up his face as her insinuation hits home. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he spits.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, deciding that this is as great a moment as any to speak up. “Time to go.” He has the nerve to shoo Finn back further with his hands, and Clarke has to hold back a laugh.

“Back off. This has nothing to do with you. Why don’t you just crawl back to wherever you came from? At least go put a shirt on or something.”

Clarke feels her eyes widen. She dares a glance back at Bellamy, and sure enough, he’s naked from the waist up. She turns her icy stare back to Finn.

“No. You do not get to walk into _my_ home, and talk that way to people that _I_ invited in, when you are neither needed nor wanted here,” she says, crowding Finn back against the door until he has nowhere else to go. “Get out.”

And much to her relief, he does leave. She locks the door after him, sliding the chain into the lock for good measure. She sags against the door, glad to have the conversation over with. The confrontation has cleared most of the alcohol haze that had kept her so happy minutes earlier, and she feels as sober as a judge.

“You okay?” Bellamy asks her in the same concerned voice.

She looks up at him and rakes her eyes over his body. His skin is still sweat-slicked from his run, though it’s rapidly drying. His abdomen and chest look exactly the way she imagined they would, with each muscle perfectly sculpted and each plane, smooth. Her gaze trails down to the vee that dips into his running shorts.

She walks towards him, well aware of the way her hips sway with every step. She stops when she’s inches away from him and lazily trails her index down along his sternum, taking her lower lip between her teeth. When she meets his eyes, his pupils are wide, dark, and extremely inviting.

“You know, you kind of owe me for this morning,” she says, her voice sultry smooth.

He swallows thickly. “That’s what the wine was for.”

“Not even close, Blake. But, I do owe you thanks for what you just did right there, so, I think there’s a way we might be able to make things even. What do you say?”

“What do you have in mind?” he asks, and his voice is husky. The sound of it sends a rush of heat to her very core.

She continues to trail her finger down along Bellamy’s abs, sinking down with it as it drops lower and lower. Once she's squatting in front of him, her hand comes up to palm him through the smooth fabric of his gym shorts.

“Clarke,” he breathes. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” she says, looking up to meet his eyes from her position on her knees in front of him. “I need to.”

She hooks her index fingers into his waistband, eyes still on him, waiting for him to stop her. Instead, he closes his eyes, his hand brushing through her hair. She takes that as a sign to proceed, and tugs his shorts and boxers down in one swift motion. His length is impressive, and she stops to admire his size, remarkable even when he’s still not completely hard. She doesn’t hesitate before taking him into her mouth, her tongue flat along the underside of his cock. His fingers tighten in her hair, and the pull stings, but in the best way. A curse falls from him lips, and his head falls back as she pulls him slowly from her mouth, taking care to swirl her tongue against his already sensitive head.

He grabs her elbows and yanks her to her feet, tugging her shirt off and discarding it on the couch next to them.

“O?” he asks.

“Class. Won’t be home for hours,” Clarke says, and she already sounds breathy.

She reaches down again to take him into her hand, jacking him with her hand and giving a sharp twist of her wrist when she reaches the base.

“Fuck, Clarke, you can’t keep doing that,” he gasps, locking his mouth against her shoulder and sucking a bruise into the skin.

His hands snake down to the back of her thighs, and he lifts her up and carries her down the hall to the bathroom. He sets her down and starts the shower. Clarke busies herself shucking off her pants and releasing the clasp of her bra. Her breasts fall free just as Bellamy turns around. He crowds her into the wall, hands already on her chest.

“Holy shit, Clarke,” he says, tweaking her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She gasps and thrusts her hips forward. He chuckles, his hands continuing to palm her breasts in a way that has wetness pooling between her legs. “Eager, aren’t you, Princess? Been a while since someone treated you this good, huh?”

She whines when he leans down to take one of her hard nipples into his mouth, his hand unrelenting on the other one. She lets out a high-pitched moan when she feels a flash of teeth against the sensitive skin. She feels his answering smirk. He pulls back, and before she realizes what he’s doing, he blows a soft breath of cold air against her saliva-slick nipple. The sensation causes her to arch her back off the wall and reach for him.

“You like that, huh, sweet thing?” She nods. “Use your words, Clarke. Tell me you like that.”

“Yes,” she gasps. “God, yes. Bellamy, more.”

“So demanding,” he says, but switches to give her other nipple the same attention.

Her hands slide down the planes of his chest until they reach his erection, finally standing at full length, hard against his stomach. She swipes her thumb across the tip, and he groans against her breast.

He offers no warning before parting her folds with a calloused finger and pressing down against her clit. She can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed at the sound she makes.

“Fuck, babe. You’re soaked. You’re already so wet,” he says as he looks at her. She continues moving her hand up and down along his shaft.

“Bellamy,” she pants as his fingers slide down to gather her arousal, pooled at her opening.

“Tell me, Clarke. What do you need?”

“Fingers,” she says between pants. “I need your fingers.”

“As you wish,” he says, and slides two fingers into her.

“Fuck,” she swears, as she gets used to the feel of his thick digits inside of her.

He leans forward, eyes focused on her mouth, but Clarke turns away before he kisses her. He latches on to her neck instead, teeth biting into her skin and drawing a high-pitched keen out of her. She can’t focus on what her hands are doing, too lost in the feeling of him fucking into her with his fingers. Her arms wrap around his shoulder for support. He crooks his fingers at just the right angle, and she lets out a low moan, her walls tightening around him. His thumb finds her clit and rubs it in quick, tight circles. She’s aware of the shower running in the background, the steam starting to fill up the bathroom, but she can’t care any less.

“You gonna come for me, Clarke? You gonna come on my hand with my fingers inside of you? Fuck, Clarke, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to feel myself inside of you.”

Of course he'd be a talker. He was already so infuriatingly cocky that Clarke shouldn't have doubted for even a second that he'd be the kind the whisper dirty nothings against the shell of her ear. Clarke’s hips are bucking wildly, trying to grind down on Bellamy’s hand and encouraging him to go faster.

“Come for me,” he says, and she does, letting out a series of expletives as Bellamy eases her down from her orgasm.

He pulls his fingers from her, and she watches in awe as he brings them to his mouth, cleaning the taste of her off of his hand.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she says. “Your turn.” She makes to kneel down again, but he stops her.

“Condom?” he asks.

She opens one of the drawers by the sink and pulls out a foil packet. He makes quick work of sliding the condom on, and then he turns her around to face the wall, trailing his hands down her arms until they reach her wrists. He brings both of her hands up over her head and holds both her wrists in one of his hands against the wall. His knee between her legs coaxes her thighs apart, and he guides one leg to the edge of the tub. His free hand comes around to grab her breasts.

“I fucking love your tits,” he says, and his breath is hot on her neck.

He lets go of her wrists, and she leaves her hands where he placed them. She feels him reach down and guide himself to her entrance, teasing at her opening with the tip of his dick.

“You good?” he asks.

She swallows and then nods, and before she can say a word, he’s thrusting into her.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps.

He stops to give her time to adjust to his astonishing size, and when Clarke can’t wait any longer, she moves on him. He takes the hint, pulling all the way out and thrusting all the way back into her.

“Shit, Bellamy.”

“You like that?” he asks as his hand drops to her folds. He teases her with his fingers as he fucks her from behind. “You like that, don’t you, sweet thing? Bet your frat boy douche out there never made you feel this good, huh?” he asks, his mouth right next to her ear.

“Oh, God, Bellamy. You feel so good.” She keens again as he hits just the right spot inside of her, her walls locking around his dick like a vice.

“That the spot, babe? That where it feels good?”

“Uh huh,” is all she can manage as he devotes all of his effort to hitting that spot over and over again. She lets her forehead fall against the wall.

When he pinches her clit, she nearly screams with pleasure. The hand teasing the sensitive nub holds her tight against him while his other hand tweaks her nipple.

“Come for me, Clarke. Show me how good I make you feel.”

Her head rolls back onto his shoulder, and his lips find her neck.

“I’m so close, Bellamy.”

He doubles his efforts on her clit, and she’s thrown over the edge with blinding intensity. Bellamy pulls out of her and thrusts back in once, and then again, and then he’s matching her orgasm with his own. He pulls out of her and helps her bring her foot back down.

When he turns to toss the condom into the trash, she grabs a towel off the rack and wraps it around herself. He meets her eyes when he turns back around.

“Clarke, this doesn’t have to be – ”

“Yes, it does,” she says. “Thanks for giving me a hand. Glad we’re even. Let me know when you’re done showering, and I’ll go once you’re finished.”

Before he can say another word, she exists the small bathroom on shaky legs, Finn nowhere close to being on her mind.

* * *

Come hang out with me on [Tumblr](wanheda-two-heda.tumblr.com/ask)! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is my first attempt at anything resembling smut, so I hope it wasn't absolutely terrible.
> 
> Leave me your thoughts. Unless they're bad. Then I don't want them.


	5. Clarke, Meet Bellamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia comes home after her date to a still warring Clarke and Bellamy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you weren't expecting more smut, because it's going to be a while until the next bit.

Clarke manages to avoid Bellamy for the rest of the day. She stays in her room after she’s done showering and prepares for her interview, if only to keep herself busy, making sure that she has an updated copy of her resume printed along with a list of references for her previous art jobs. She tries on twenty different outfits before she finds one that makes her look both professional and artistic.

Clarke’s been drunk before. Many times at that. And she has made a lot of regrettable decisions while drunk, most of them ending in sloppy make-outs and nights of terrible sex, so she’s familiar with the sinking feeling that comes once she’s fully sober and able to evaluate her choices. It’s what she’s waiting for as she paces back and forth around her room once she has nothing left to do to keep her mind busy.

For starters, Clarke is a seasoned drinker. She’s had many late nights with Octavia, frat parties in college, and bar night celebrations to help bring up her alcohol tolerance. Today, she wishes that she hadn’t done a lot of those things, because maybe being heavily intoxicated would explain why she’d let her roommate’s brother press her up against a wall and give her the best sex she’s had in ages, but as it stands, a bottle of wine is not enough for Clarke to start unconsciously making bad decisions; it was hardly enough to get Finn off her mind.

She wishes she could say that she’d been drunk, that way she could explain how she’d betrayed her best friend in such a monumental way. She didn’t regret a second of it, and that’s why she felt so terrible. She was well aware of what she was doing when she got down on her knees for Bellamy Blake, fully conscious of what she was letting him to do her, and she’s loved every second of it. It was the most reckless, most exhilarating thing she’d ever done in her life. Given the chance to do it all over again, she wouldn’t hesitate. And that’s why she felt so guilty, she thought, flopping back onto her bed, not because she’d had sex with Bellamy, but because the prospect of doing it again with her roommate’s brother exhilarated her.

She has her arm thrown over her eyes when the door to her bedroom opens tentatively.

“Bellamy, I don’t want – ”

“Not Bellamy,” Octavia says in her usually bubbly voice.

Clarke shoots up into a sitting position at the sound of her friend’s voice. “O! How was it?” Octavia sends her a glare that Clarke immediately understands. “Sorry,” Clarke replies sheepishly.

“I don’t want Bell to know yet. If I can spare Lincoln the big brother act for a little while longer, I will. I don’t want to ruin this.”

“Ah!” Clarke says in a low voice. “So _Hot Personal Trainer_ has a name!”

Octavia ducks her head and blushes furiously. “He’s so sweet, Clarke.”

“I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“I’m sorry I bailed on you, though. I feel like a terrible friend.”

 _That makes two of us,_ Clarke thinks. “Don’t. Tell me about your date! I take it that it went well?”

Octavia launches into a rambling speech about her evening, recounting every small detail to her roommate from the restaurant they went to, to how Lincoln admitted that he’d been trying to gather up the courage to talk to her for weeks, to how he walked her to her car at the end of the night and kissed her soft and sweet. It’d been a long time since Clarke’s seen Octavia this happy.

“How was your day? Get up to anything interesting?” Octavia asks.

Clarke hopes that her blush isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Not much,” she says with a dismissing wave of her hand. “Finn came by?”

“How was that?” Octavia asks, running her hands soothingly through Clarke’s hair.

“Not bad. He wanted to explain what happened.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I didn’t give him a chance. I told him to go take a hike.” _And then I fucked your brother_ , Clarke adds to herself as an afterthought.

“Good. I’m proud of you.”

 _If only you knew,_ Clarke thinks sadly.

“Hey, how long is your brother staying here for?” she asks instead and hopes that her question sounds as uninterested as she wants it to.

“Just for the rest of the week. He’s leaving on Sunday. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it; he kind of just sprung it on me. Did he back off after I talked to him?”

“It’s your apartment, too, and he’s family. Don’t apologize. I’d never say no to you bringing someone over.”

“I know, but with the Finn incident this morning –”

Clarke giggles, cutting her off. “The Finn-cident,” she laughs.

“I’m glad you can joke about it,” Octavia says with a smile. “I just wish he could have come on a different day, or that I could have been here to buffer. Ugh, he can be such an ass, sometimes, especially with new people, because he tries to do this whole– ” Octavia puffs out her chest and flexes her arms, finishing her sentence in a deep voice that sounds nothing like her brother’s – “I’m Bellamy Blake, and I’m strong and push people away. Look at all my muscles so they can distract you from the fact that I’m basically a puppy who cries during romantic comedies.”

Both girls dissolve into a fit of laughter on Clarke’s bed, and Clarke vows to push thoughts of her afternoon with Bellamy to a far corner of her mind.

“That’s a great imitation,” Clarke says, wiping away a stray tear from her corner of her eye as her laughter dies down.

“I swear he’s not all bad. Get to know him, and he’s the best person to have in your corner,” his sister says.

“I’ll try, but I’m not promising much. He did say I sounded like a whale.”

“Yeah, I snapped at him a little about that. Come on, I bought you ice cream, and it’s still early. Let’s go curl up on the couch and watch a movie.”

Clarke yanks her duvet off her bed and carries it to the living room, dropping with it unceremoniously onto the couch. Octavia appears with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked and two spoons, and finds Mean Girls on her Netflix list and hits play.

“I’m gonna grab a drink before it starts. Want anything?” Clarke offers.

“Coke?”

“I think we have two cans left. I’ll check.”

She pads quietly to the kitchen and rifles through the fridge until she finds her roommate’s favorite soda. She’s just pouring herself a glass of water from the jug they keep in the fridge when someone else walks into the kitchen.

“Clarke,” Bellamy starts in a hushed tone.

Clarke rounds on him and meets his questioning gaze. “We don’t have to talk about it. It happened, I don’t regret it, but it can’t happen again. I had an itch I needed to scratch, and you helped me, but Octavia is your sister, and my best friend, so where I’m concerned, this afternoon never happened.”

She leaves Bellamy in the kitchen, not taking a second to register the expression on his face. She hands Octavia the red can and settles in beside her friend under her duvet on the couch. Octavia hands her a spoon and starts the movie. Footsteps sound down the hall seconds later.

“Bell!” Octavia calls. “You are not going to spend the week hiding in my room! Come watch a movie with your baby sister!”

Bellamy appears in the doorway. “What are you watching?” he asks skeptically, looking at the screen.

“Mean Girls. Come. Sit.”

“Is your roommate going to start bawling when Cady can’t go to her nerd competition?”

“According to your sister, that sounds more like something you’d do, but I’m sorry that my crying over getting cheated on disturbed your morning routine in my apartment,” Clarke bites.

Octavia shoots a pointed look at her brother. “Sit. Be civil. I know you’ve already met, but for the sake of doing things right, Clarke, this is my brother Bellamy. He’s an asshole, but you can just ignore him. Bellamy, this is my best friend, Clarke. Don’t be an asshole to her.”

“I’m pretty sure that she started it,” he says.

“How in the hell does you coming in here and insulting me count as me starting it?” Clarke snaps.

“Bellamy, just sit down,” Octavia says, exasperated. Her brother does as he’s told.

* * *

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're liking this story so far! I love your comments and getting to hear from you! Let me know what you think; it will 110% get chapters posted faster.

**Author's Note:**

> I do **actual** writing in my spare time! Come find me at [@pascale_writes](https://twitter.com/pascale_writes) or let's hang out on [Tumblr](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/)


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